Book Review

The Way We Eat: Why Our Food Choices Matter

By Peter Singer and Jim Mason | Reviewed by Matt Ball

When I first stopped eating meat
almost twenty years ago, many of
the vegetarians that I met – and
especially the vegans – were concerned
mostly with rooting out new items
that had some type of animal product
in them or connected to their production.
This was when the list of animal
products (and companies that tested
on animals) grew every year, until
it eventually became a book.

Now, more people see veganism as
a practical
tool for preventing suffering,
and advocacy, via their example,
as at least as important as their
personal choices. Even today, though,
many individuals are concerned with
whether something is "vegan,"
with "vegan" being a stand-in
for "good." This is understandable,
as tracing back the actual impact
of our food choices is often difficult
and time-consuming.

Yet there is little reason to "choose
vegan" if there is no impact
from these choices. One person who
is not afraid of asking difficult
and time-consuming questions about
the impact of our choices is Peter
Singer, who, along with Jim Mason
(previously, co-authors of Animal
Factories), have delved deeply
into the questions of what impact
all our food choices may have. In
their new book, The Way We Eat:
Why Our Food Choices Matter,
Singer and Mason trace back the
food purchases of three families
in the U.S., showing the origins
of these foods.

Or, they would if they could. Singer
and Mason wrote to 87 corporations,
and only 14 indicated that they
were willing to assist the authors
in any way (most of the 14 being
small producers of organic foods).
Even Steve Kopperud, head of the
Animal Industry Foundation, who
has been on record saying that his
industry must show the public "accurate"
information about how animals are
treated, refused to help. "Accurate
information," obviously, means
staged photos of cows in pastures,
but not any visits to – let alone
pictures of – real farms.

Through various anonymous farmers
and undercover work (the description
of time spent as a turkey inseminator
is particularly gripping), Singer
and Mason are able to paint a horrifying
and infuriating picture of today's
modern animal agriculture (for example,
see "Enter
the Chicken Shed"
– pdf). They also get to much of
the behind-the-scenes politics of
the industry – for example, how
McDonald's doesn't even take the
advice of their own hand-picked
Animal Welfare Council (p. 72).

Singer and Mason are also able
to discuss, at greater length and
with more honesty than elsewhere,
various externalities (tax breaks,
environmental damage, health consequences,
etc.) of different farming and production
practices. Their unwillingness to
accept anything as inherently and
unquestioningly good (organics,
"fair trade," buying local)
has been discussed at length elsewhere
(Mother
Jones, Salon,
May 8 interview at Vegan.com).
Being presented both sides to these
and other issues is unique in this
age of advocacy journalism.

Searching for nits, the pickings
are slim:

Perhaps in an attempt to err
on the side of caution, Singer
and Mason state flatly that fish
are able to have the subjective
experience of suffering, while
this is, to me at least, an
open question with advocacy implications.
They include shrimp (p. 276) as
capable of feeling pain, which
is almost certainly not the case
(Singer and Mason do discuss the
more accurate argument against
shrimp – the by-catch).

I was glad that they discuss
health issues and refer to Vegan
Outreach's article "Staying
Healthy on a Plant-Based Diet"
by Jack Norris, R.D. Unfortunately,
they skimmed over some important
questions. For example, they say
"most people get enough vitamin
D by going out in the sun"
(p. 228). Actually, a lot of vegans
likely don't get enough sun to
produce adequate vitamin D, and
this manifests itself in many
ways not commonly associated with
vitamin D deficiency. Please see
Mr. Norris' article on the "forgotten
nutrient."

These are, however, minor quibbles
to an otherwise impressively thorough
and thoughtful book. To some, it
may appear to be too complete, as
Singer and Mason acknowledge:

Sometimes the very success of
the ethical consumer movement
and the proliferation of consumer
concerns it has spawned seems
to threaten the entire ethical
consumption project. When one
ethical concern is heaped upon
another and we struggle to be
sure that our purchases do not
contribute to slave labor, animal
exploitation, land degradation,
wetland pollution, rural depopulation,
unfair trade practices, global
warming, and the destruction of
rainforests, it may seem so complicated
that we could be tempted to forget
about everything except eating
what we like and can afford.

But they answer:

But this rule-based view isn't
the only possible approach to
ethics, nor the best one, in our
view. ... We are not too concerned
about trivial infractions of the
ethical guidelines we have suggested.
We think intensive dairy production
is unethical. Because dairy products
are in so many foods, avoiding
them entirely can make life difficult.
But remember, eating ethically
doesn't have to be like keeping
kosher. You can take into account
how difficult it is to avoid factory-farmed
dairy products, and how much support
you would be giving to the dairy
industry if you were to buy an
energy bar that includes a trace
of skim milk powder. Personal
purity isn't really the issue.
Not supporting animal abuse –
and persuading others not to support
it – is. Giving people the impression
that it is virtually impossible
to be vegan doesn't help animals
at all.

Given their thorough, honest, and
non-dogmatic approach (unlike, for
example, Michael Pollan's convoluted
rationalizations of meat-eating
in The Omnivore's Dilemma),
Singer and Mason have crafted a
guide for all thoughtful, ethical
individuals. Everyone already concerned
with the impact of their purchases
should read this book. Its non-strident
tone and its lack of photos make
it a perfect gift for a relative
or friend who won't read Why
Vegan? or watch Meet Your
Meat.